


thirst

by Anonymous



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Dubious Consent, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Omorashi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Watersports, but not like. in the normal way, canon typical elias manipulation, implied jonmartin feelings, piss drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25105360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: elias "helps" jon
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

“You know, I think you’ve been holding it too long.” 

Jon shivers. He doesn’t like Knowing what Elias is talking about, but it’s not exactly his choice, is it? 

“I—I can use the restroom, if you’d like?” he says, even as his bladder pulses and a trickle of piss leaves his body. Fuck. 

“You’re past that point,” Elias says smoothly, an almost affectionate tone to his voice. He makes his way over to where Jon’s sitting, and he kneels down in front of him, and then his hands are on his zipper, and—

“Wait...” Jon says, grabbing Elias’s hands and squeezing. “Wh-what are you planning?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Elias says, smiling. 

Jon’s eyes widen, suddenly realizing (or perhaps Knowing?) what his plans are. “No. No, Elias, that’s...” 

“Jon.” 

“That’s too far.” 

Elias huffs and rolls his eyes. “Maybe so. You still don’t have much of a choice, do you?” 

Jon’s bottom lip trembles. He has to piss so badly, and he can already feel his underwear start to dampen a little more. He still doesn’t want Elias to do this. 

“I locked the door when I entered. No one will know.” 

Tears flood Jon’s eyes. His bladder throbs again, and he leaks a little more. 

“Would you rather it be Martin here?” 

“D-don’t...you leave him out of this...” he says sharply. 

A little more piss leaks out of him. There really is no chance of him reaching a bathroom, is there? 

Jon swallows, but he stands, pushing his chair back. Elias smiles, and he quickly undoes his trousers, practically ripping them and his boxers off of his hips. Jon steps out of them shakily, his bare cunt dangerously close to Elias’s face. 

Elias smiles somehow wider, gripping his hips and drawing him closer. His tongue is startlingly rough against his sensitive lips, and Jon would’ve leapt back if not for the fact that he suddenly loses control right then and there. Piss dribbles out of him at first a couple drops at a time, and then in a steady stream, and he sobs, entangling his hair in Elias’s hair for support. 

God, it feels _good_. The strain in his lower abdomen slowly dissipates as he lets lose, warm urine flooding out of him and into...Elias’s...waiting mouth. If he doesn’t think too hard about that last part, he can almost enjoy the feeling of relief riding through him like a wave, and the warmth of the mouth below him, tickling his most sensitive bits. His grip on Elias’s hair tightens, and he squeezes his eyes shut, letting out a breathy moan. He tilts his head back and sighs through the tears trickling down his cheeks, trying to focus on his own pleasure rather than the rest of the situation. 

His legs are shaking so badly. He would’ve fallen if it weren’t for Elias’s hands holding him tight, his fingers sure to leaves marks against his thighs. Just another way for him to lay claim to him, but Jon’s too caught up in the euphoria of release to be upset about that right now. 

Eventually, though, his stream tapers off, and even though his clit is throbbing Jon doesn’t want Elias’s mouth on him any longer. He shoves him away unceremoniously, and he feels a little sick at the way the other man wipes his mouth. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of _that_?” he asks, reaching out toward his cunt again. 

Jon slaps his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he snarls. He grabs a tissue off of his desk and wipes himself of the remaining dribbling, and throws that in Elias’s face. “That’s the end of this interaction. Now fuck. _Off_.” 

He scrambles to get his pants and underwear back on, before turning sharply to leave. He sees Elias’s mouth open, and he almost stops to hear what he has to say. 

But then, panic sinks into his stomach, and he rushes off to the bathroom so he can wash his hands and have a proper cry. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got drunk again and now this is a multi chapter fic. 
> 
> help.

“Why did you call me up to your office?” 

Elias leers at him over his desk, a disgusting smile on his face. Jon shudders, and he can’t help but flinch when the man gets out of his seat. 

“You didn’t lock the door behind you,” Elias chides in explanation, shaking his head. 

Jon’s stomach turns at that. He grits his teeth, leaping aside as Elias brushes past him. 

Elias scoffs as he locks the door, giving Jon a stern look before making his way back to his chair. “You don’t have to treat me like I’m poison, Jon,” he says, sitting down and crossing one leg over the other. “Come now, come closer.” 

“You _are_ poison,” Jon says sharply, “and I don’t want to. Don’t think I didn’t notice the fact that you called me over on my way to the restroom.” 

Elias smiles, and he gets to his feet again. He grabs Jon’s hips and pulls him along, until he’s standing beside him at his desk. 

“You have a real problem, you know,” he says smoothly, petting Jon’s thighs lightly. “You need to stop giving yourself UTIs. It wouldn’t kill you to take a bathroom break every now and then, would it?” 

“Shut. Up,” Jon hisses, even as the touch makes his skin tingle. He hadn’t realized it, but god, he’s missed being caressed so intimately. How long has it been now? It feels like forever. 

Elias chuckles, and Jon’s face heats up. He only gets more flushed as Elias leans forward and kisses his inner thighs, feather light touches that feel good through his jeans. 

“What do you want?” he asks, but his voice is shaky, weak. His fingers go to Elias’s hair, squeezing tight, unsure of whether he wants to pull him closer or shove him away. 

“I simply want to help,” Elias murmurs, drawing away from his thighs to undo his zipper, pulling his jeans down to his knees. “As I mentioned before, you have a problem, Jon. You hold it for far too long. I’m simply suggesting a solution. An intervention, even.” 

Jon feels himself trembling. He lets his hands drop from Elias’s head. “What the hell are you talking about?” he hisses. “What kind of intervention?” 

His heart spikes as he see Elias pluck an empty wine glass off of his desk. He shakes his head vigorously, but Elias just smiles at him. 

“I just thought I could, perhaps, give you an incentive to use the restroom sooner,” he says, gently sliding Jon’s boxers down. “Or, well, at the very least, I could offer something that’s enjoyable for both of us, if you persist on these unhealthy habits.” 

“H-how is this—“ Jon starts, and then he whimpers, putting his hands in front of his crotch. “Elias...I-I don’t want this...” 

“But don’t you?” Elias asks, gentle and amused. He pulls Jon’s hands away delicately and puts the glass up to his bare cunt. “I think we both know you’re enjoying this more than you’d like to admit.” 

Jon gasps at the glass brim brushing against his privates, and he whines, his knees shaking with the effort of keeping himself up. He hates the fact that Elias is right. He is, in fact, kind of excited by the prospect of pissing in something so _fancy_ , his clit throbbing with arousal at the thought. 

“You’re not being fair,” he whines, and it sounds more petulant than anything. “Elias, this isn’t fair.” 

Elias hums. Rage surges in Jon’s chest. 

“This isn’t even going to hold it all! What the _fuck_ are you thinking?!” 

“Jon.” Elias reaches over and digs his nails into one of his thighs. “Just fill the glass, please.” 

Jon’s heart rises into his throat, and he’s not sure what it is that makes the floodgates open, but they do, urine suddenly rushing out of him. The sound of his own piss pouring into the glass startles him, actually _startles_ him, god, and he can feel tears bead up in the corners of his eyes. He’s trembling so hard that he’s surprised he isn’t missing the opening, but Elias is holding it firmly against him, his fingers digging painfully into his thigh to hold him upright. 

Despite his best efforts to blink them away, tears do end up falling down his cheeks, trickling down his chin. He can’t help but pant in relief, partially in an attempt to keep himself from sobbing. 

“There you go...there you go...” Elias murmurs, grabbing a tissue off of his desk. “Good boy. Aaaand...stop.” 

Jon hiccups, trying his best to stifle his stream. He clenches his muscles, his thighs tensing, and he shoves his fist into his mouth to keep from whining. Hell, to keep from _begging_ , the piss still in him continuing to pound at his sphincter. 

Elias chuckles, putting the glass on the desk and dabbing at Jon’s intimate bits with the tissue before he can dribble into his underwear. “There you go. There’s a good boy,” he croons, and Jon kind of wants to spit on him. 

“I hate you,” he moans, pulling his hand out of his mouth to scrub at his eyes with both hands. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you..." 

“Jon, don’t be childish,” Elias says, clicking his tongue. He leans forward and kisses his clit, sending a wave of electricity through his body. “I’m not doing this to torment you.” 

“Well, you could’ve fooled me!” Jon hisses, before cringing. God, he really does sound childish. He sucks in a breath, wringing his hands. “Can I please leave for the restroom now?” 

“You don’t want to stay with me?” Elias coos, pressing an almost tender kiss to his inner thigh. 

It’s almost not creepy and upsetting. Really really close. But Jon doesn’t like the way his skin tingles when Elias’s lips touch him, and he’s really let him kiss him far too many times already. He grabs the hem of his underwear and pants and yanks them up, stepping back quickly. 

“Jon,” Elias says scoldingly. “I’m not trying to hurt you, dear.” 

“Then leave me alone,” Jon says, his voice cracking. “Please.” 

He turns on his heel and scuttles off for the nearest restroom before Elias can say anything else (or perhaps, even, convince him to stay). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can y'all tell i hate writing the word p/ssy and am avoiding it at all costs

**Author's Note:**

> literally no one i know can know i wrote this ahsfdlajsdlkf 
> 
> edit: yeahh i'm gonna end it here i don't really have any further inspiration for this and i feel kinda awkward about writing it in the first place dkjaksdfs


End file.
